


profuse apologies to midorikawa yuki (ie. exorcists hell fic dump)

by copperiisulfate



Category: Natsume Yuujinchou | Natsume's Book of Friends
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-03-26
Updated: 2017-05-13
Packaged: 2018-10-11 09:07:11
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,055
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10461141
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/copperiisulfate/pseuds/copperiisulfate
Summary: collection of fics written for meme-fills on tumblr and probably other tiny misc. things





	1. two small exorcists sitting in a tree

**Author's Note:**

> written for asofterworld fic meme for the prompt: _I cannot help but notice we are sitting-in-a-tree. So, you know, maybe we could think of something to do… verb-wise. (I want us to gerund, essentially.)_

This is the _third_ time they’ve tried to seal this forest ayakashi to no avail. 

Seiji had said that it had poor sight unless one made direct eye-contact and then it was known to be quick to attack and downright merciless.

Shuuichi had dryly suggested sunglasses, partly as a way to break up the foreboding air that was starting to suffocate him the more they talked about it.

Seiji of course had laughed, condescending as always. “It may be a one-way mirror of sorts but those things don’t mean anything.”

Shuuichi didn’t point out that he was mostly joking. He didn’t point out even more than a part of him had abysmally not been joking and hoped there would be some sort of shortcut in store, and that for once, he could be the one to come up with it.

“We will just have to have good reflexes, be quick and locate it before it sees us.”

And so, they wind up here, at the base of a low-lying sycamore.

The sun filters through the leaves and it’s a beautiful enough day to get eaten by a yokai as any, thinks Shuuichi.

The flecks of sun shift across Seiji’s face with the gentle breeze through the leaves and he is eyeing the bit of sky in a way that Shuuichi can tell what he is planning before he voices it.

Shuuichi questions his life choices yet again. “We’re going to have to climb it, aren’t we?”

He regrets it just as quickly because it breaks the short-lived picture of tranquility, which he hates admitting as being something he’d witnessed under these circumstances, and Seiji hushes him in a rush with a clamped hand over his mouth. 

Shuuichi bites back a groan, and also, the urge to spitefully bite at the hand. The nerve of him, _seriously_.

And well, up they go, and Shuuichi doesn’t know what on earth is propelling Seiji onwards and upwards, can’t see what he’s chasing–can’t see a thing even with his glasses on.

They pause on a branch at Seiji’s urging, nothing more than the staying motion of a hand. He’s quiet, focused like a hawk, thinks Shuuichi, as he catches a breath himself.

Shuuichi tries scoping the scenery quietly with his eyes until a sudden gust rattles the smaller branches and a growing shadow makes itself apparent, resembles a tangle of roots and vines, Shuuichi thinks, as the shape becomes clearer from the periphery of his vision.

He is careful to not keep his eyes on any one place. At the same time, he doesn’t know where to look or not to look, but soon, he’s distracted as Seiji mutters some words and throws a jar at a nearby branch.

It doesn’t work.

They both curse under their breaths as the shadow shifts but then the colour of the leaves begin to change in a faraway branch and the change ripples forward, like ink in water, and the gust of wind is now a howl.

What he hears is Seiji’s voice simultaneously loud in his ear and also impossibly distant, saying, “Here, quick!” 

And the next thing he feels is Seiji’s lips on his, a hand curled in the collar of his shirt. 

Shuuichi–doesn’t know what in the _world_ is going on and he apparently isn’t finding out any time soon because even as it goes on for long enough to go from shock-still to closing his eyes and trying to process how to-– _attempt to_ -–proceed, it doesn’t start making any more sense. 

Even as he feels himself going a little numb from head to toe, he finds his mouth moving against Seiji’s of its own accord until the rush and roar in his ears from the gusts dies down and the leaves and branches no longer seem to be shaking around them.

The air grows completely silent by the time Seiji pulls away.

“What was–” Shuuichi starts in a daze, doesn’t know if he’ll ever be able to finish that sentence. 

“A distraction,” Seiji says, wholly matter-of-fact and unruffled, “to save us from getting very likely devoured. You are very welcome by the way.”

Clouds obscure the sun not long after and seem to show no sign of relenting. Seiji makes a face and says, “Tomorrow, we’ll try again. It’s going to be harder to spot the nuances when the sun isn’t out.”

“Also, you are _surprisingly_ a better kisser than you are an exorcist,” Seiji laughs, in practically the same breath.

Shuuichi gapes at him slack-jawed, doesn’t quite know where to begin to process any of it, if he ever will. 

“Don’t worry. It was a compliment,” Seiji says.

“Backhanded and poorly thought out,” Shuuichi finally grits out the words, his voice a little hoarse and worse for wear. “You’re a better exorcist than you are a human being, besides.”

“I can live with that,” Seiji all but preens.

Shuuichi rolls his eyes, wants to say, _it wasn’t a compliment,_ but holds back. 

Honestly, he doesn’t know _why_ he bothers with Matoba Seiji more than half the time.

Anyway, tomorrow is going to be the _fourth_ time they’re going to try to seal this forest ayakashi.


	2. i wasn't thinking about you (again, again, again)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> written for the asw fic meme for the prompt: _When I look at you all I can see are the mistakes we’re going to make. (The future’s so bright.)_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> title from purity ring's _stranger than earth_

The first time someone calls him _Matoba-sama,_  he flinches from the sheer _wrongness_ of it. 

_No, no, no. That is your father’s name_ , says his naive, adolescent mind. 

 

 

x

 

 

The second time it gets easier not to recoil but not by much.

_That’s right,_ his mind affirms and reminds him. _Remember, remember: your father is dead._  

 

 

x

 

 

The third time he holds his head up higher at the greeting. 

(The learning curve is steep but he accelerates past and circumvents most of it. The architecture in his mind has to rearrange itself, keep up with the old walls falling and the ground beneath his feet crumbling to dust, making way for a new foundation, new borders and boundaries emerging in their place. He doesn’t have the luxury of time to acclimate – cuts corners where he can. It’s all or nothing and never fast enough, until it is.) 

 

 

x

 

 

By the time Shuuichi shifts from calling him  _Seiji_ to _Matoba_ , he hardly registers the difference. 

( _Liar_ , whispers a part of him, small and fading.) 

Even so, the shift in his own head from _Shuuichi_ to _Natori_  is excruciatingly, infuriatingly slow.

 

 


End file.
